Fix my shattered Pieces
by Assassination
Summary: The words that are written on the glass are permanent...but only see the other's secrets. Broken, shattered glass falls. Shiro secretly needs to be fixed, but only Ichigo knows this desire. Will he fix Shiro, or leave him in pieces?
1. The shattered Glass

The vibrant haired teen sighed, shaking his head as the cool breeze from the open window caressed his heated skin. It was always like this anyway. His other would always disappear the next day.

Nothing too new. They'd battle, crash, and then the Hollow would vanish. It's not like he wanted to see the demon's sleeping form, not at all.

Yet still...the bleached form would always hold back in their fights, he could just feel it in their colliding blades.

His auburn eyes gazed out the window. Now that he thought about it, there hasn't been too much Hollow activity for almost four days now. He had to admit, he loved Summer Vacation, but...when he has nothing to do, he just wishes it would end quickly.

The lightly tanned teen leaned back, his head plopping down on the pillow, soft as always. Nothing changed.

Nothing.

His chestnut orbs closed slowly, his mind trying to wrap around why the albino would hold back while he fought, unlike the times he was obsessed with becoming 'King' and taking over.

Reopening his eyes, he blinked, seeing that Shiro was standing with his back turned to him, staring down on the glass he was in front of him, noting that the alabaster hands were curled into tight fists.

_Why is he holding back? _Was written, scratched, carved with a sword into the porcelain glass. _He's acting strange lately...why...?_

The duplicate's face scrunched itself up, as if disgusted with the teen's questions, hate running swiftly in his veins. Explaining would be in vain, he decided that a long time ago.

When the questions hadn't decorated the endless windows.

Shiro turned, seeing that Ichigo was standing next to him, staring down on the glass, tilting his head to the side to stare into Shiro's brilliant golden-black.

Ichigo glanced back down on the writing, heart halting to a stop, his breath snatched away from him, swearing that this was his other's inner thoughts, the ones he never knew was written down on memory.

_I'm broken..._

The orange haired Kurosaki backed up immediately, tripping over his own feet and falling down onto the ground with a loud gasp, his auburn eyes widening as he felt warm fingers wrap around his wrist, being yanked back up by the albino, who closed his eyes.

_I need someone to fix me..._

The vibrant haired shinigami stared at the writing, eyes full of confusion as his gaze trailed back to the ivory colored form, watching him turn and slip out of sight.

_Shun-po..._ he thought as his eyes fell halfway shut, slowly sitting down and pressing his hand onto the glass, seeing it crack under the pressure, words being written over the others.

_Only...my King can heal me..._

And then the window shattered, millions of pieces splitting and falling down into the abyss as Ichigo's eyes widened, his hand stained in his own blood, a few pieces of glass in his flesh. Turning his hand, he lifted his other hand, coiling three fingers around the fragment, plucking them out as he finally saw the blood form word.

_Only you can fix me..._

He looked up with wide eyes. Only to be the one person around in this upside-down world.

The only one able to know Shiro's darkest desires, wants, and thoughts.

_Please fix me...

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**This story was just something that came to mind...I thank ****Nakimochiku** **for writing that story where Shiro wrote words that Ichigo said were lies, it inspired me to write this story. Also the song: Fix me by Velvet. There might be a sequel added to this as another chapter...or this might become a story.**

**Please review.**


	2. Questions and Confusion

_He wants...to be fixed?_ the vibrant haired teen thought as his gaze fell back down into the empty abyss where a window was once placed. _I don't get it._

_Please fix me..._

Ichigo stood, shaking his head roughly while his auburn eyes hazed over in confusion and aggravation. The words written on the glass...scratched, etched into memory. Not that he truely understood the desire coursing through the albino's veins.

_He_ turned his head to the left, blinking as words began to fade into view, slashed into the window's delicate surface.

_I want to be healed..._

The shinigami representative slammed his eyes shut, repeating over and over in his mind that this was not his inner demon's desires, not at all. It was what he wanted to see.

_I want to die..._

_I want you to dye your hands in my blood..._

_You need to fix my broken pieces..._

"Stop," he whispered, "stop it..."

His eyes snapped open, gasping as he bolted up to sit up in his bed with wide eyes, sweat dripping down the side of his brow and falling from the curve of his narrow chin.

Gazing down on his hands, the pale teen breathed out, seeing that they weren't coated in his own blood, or even his Hollow's.

It couldn't be what the bleached duplicate wanted, it couldn't be what he wanted at all. It...just didn't seem right, a Hollow wasn't supposed to have _feelings_. To have an inner demon that wanted to be fixed was..._unnatural_.

Slowly laying his head back down, he placed his right hand over his face, releasing a heavy breath, his eyes fluttering shut hesitantly, worried.

_Shiro...what do you really want from me?_ he thought while looking to the side with half closed eyes, brown eyes hazed over.

XXXX

The albino sat down over the ledge to one of the sideways building, his legs dangling at the edge while glancing over to his side, seeing more words be etched into the mirroring object.

_How can I help him?_

Shiro's golden-black eyes narrowed as more letters rolled over, under, and above. Everywhere...and he hated it more than anything that made him stick his azure tongue out in disgust.

_Should I help him...after all the stuff he's put me through?_

A smirk simply spread itself over his deathly pale lips, lifting his left hand and tracing his black nailed finger over the word 'help' over and over again in a slow motion, which could only be described as sadness.

Now that he thought about it, he would never deserve Ichigo's kindness, the type that he shared with everyone else but him.

Not that he minded.

Not that he ever cared.

He deserved such treatment as hatred. Because he was a monster, a warped form created Ichigo's very form, only to have a hole in his chest, no heart.

_Why do I care?_

"Awe...so sweet," he chuckled with his smirk widening, "you're worried about me."

XXXX

The next morning was brutal. His father just had the idea to attack him an hour earlier than usual and ended up getting thrown out the window for the stupid stunt.

Rubbing his left shoulder with his right hand, Ichigo growled low in his throat, looking to the side with a deep scowl etched into his handsome features.

_Crazy old man..._ he thought bitterly as he slowly rose from the bed, his bare feet making small pitter-pat noises on the wooden flooring as he coiled his fingers around the handle to the closet, pulling it open and reasching in for a clean uniform._ Come to think of it...what time is it?_

His chocolate colored orbs turned to look at the alarm clock that declared that it was five fourty-six in the morning, causing his right brow to twitch.

Only one thought ran across his mind. _I'll kill him!!_

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to calm down, but kept them shut, even when words were forming before his mind's eye.

_I want him to fix me...or maybe...make me more...human.

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**There's the second chapter, okay...this'll be a story. But it will only be shonen-ai and angsty (as angsty as I can possibly make it) so...enjoy. Yes, short, I know, but I wrote it down on paper before putting it on here, the other chapter will me longer. Please review.**


	3. What I want

Ichigo opened his eyes, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as he slowly got out of bed. Looking to his side to see that everything was as it should be, as though he had never been a shinigami representative.

Had no Hollow.

Hadn't ever met Rukia.

Had a normal life.

Of course, he knew that it was a wish that would never be granted, and he also knew that he hated feeling like that. Weak enough to imagine how life would've been if he was a normal kid.

Shaking his head violently, the vibrant haired teen walked over to the wooden closet, swinging it open and grabbing a pair of clothes before Kon began to complain and bitch about how he never got any personal space. The lightly tanned teen couldn't help but snort at the thought, the plushy got his personal space twenty-four seven, since he barely needed him anymore.

Heading towards the bathroom, he growled, lifting his right hand up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Opening the door, Ichigo walked in, frowning as he set his clothes on the counter, grabbing hold of the cold water dial, cranking it and cupping his hands, placing them under the gushing water, waiting until his hands were semi-full, leaning over and thrusting his hands up, splashing the cold water against his skin, suppressing a shudder as he stood, turning the water off.

Chestnut colored eyes lifted, staring at the mirror as blood dripped, forming words, as if to taunt the boy.

_I'm sorry…_

Ichigo blinked, shutting the door with his right foot, taking a step back away from the mirror with horror-stricken eyes.

_I don't deserve much kindness from you, King…to tell you the truth…_

He shook his head, hoisting his left hand up and placing it over his lips, mouthing 'No.' over and over again. He didn't want to know the truth, he wanted this to stop. Then his heart beat skipped.

Shiro must be dealing with the same thing, but…his inner turmoil.

_I want you to __**break**__ me, make sure I can't ever get up again…_

Brown orbs flew to the upper right of the mirror, watching as a crack began to split the reflection, working down and splitting the blood…shattering into a million pieces, cutting his image as he fell backwards, his back colliding with the shower as he drew in a deep breath, sinking his teeth into his lower lip once again.

_You want to be broken? Or do you really want to be fixed?_ he thought, slowly recollecting himself. This was beginning to wear on his nerves, and it was only one night. Yet, his Hollow had twisted desires. First he wanted to be fixed; now he wants to be broken.

Ichigo looked down on his hands that he raised to stare at.

_I don't get it…_

XXXX

Shiro's stomach turned, hunching over with a hiss as he wrapped his arms around himself. He felt so…_lonely_.

_You…_

The albino snarled, glaring down on the window's words. He wasn't in the mood for this, yet, he placed his right hand against the glass. Feeling oddly content knowing his King's inner thoughts.

…_have to tell me what you really want._

Idly, the albino's index finger traced over the word: want, looking down on his opposite hand that was resting on his knee.

"What…do I want…?"

He didn't know, all he had was instincts and that's what always got him through everything, but this…this was entirely different.

"I want…"

The Hollow tilted his head up to the sky, letting his golden-black eyes flutter shut, a thoughtful look crossing his features as he thought the question over.

_What do I want?_

_Tell me, so I can help you…_

"I want…"

XXXX

Ichigo decided against a shower, since that glass might shatter as well. Pulling his black shirt over his head, he growled, knowing that he had to be on guard while he headed down the stairs, in case his father decided to jump him there.

Grabbing hold of the handle, he turned it, opening the door. Yet, before he stepped through, he glanced back at the broken mirror, blinking his brown eyes.

_I want comfort…_

**A/N: This chapter is short, yes…but…I don't like how it came out, the next one will be longer, I promise!**


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